Sophie Ellis-Bextor was putting petrol in the car while William Shakespeare stood nearby, contributing nothing whatsoever. A large middle-aged woman in horn-rimmed spectacles stopped next to them on her way back to a giant saloon car.

“Hey, are you William Shakespeare?” she said. “I’m a massive fan of your work.”

“Fuck off,” spat Shakespeare and stared at her as she slunk off looking hurt and confused.

“Why do you have to be like that?” asked Sophie Ellis-Bextor. “She might have been a fan of your sonnets.”

“She was a fucking Romeo and Juliet fan,” said Shakespeare. “You could tell by the size of her arse.”

“You could still have been nice to her,” said Ellis-Bextor. “I’m always nice to my fans.”

Shakespeare snorted. “The best thing you’ve ever done is Groovejet and that was fully wank. I don’t think you really need to worry about getting hassle off fans.”

“You can really upset people sometimes,” said Ellis-Bextor, looking down at the fuel nozzle with a sad look on her face.